Working It Out
by griot aka Michele
Summary: After consumating their relationship, Grissom is unsure of how to proceed in the relationship.


This is a sequel to Not a Working Relationship and Now It's Personal. And likely a prequel to several other ideas floating around in my head.

Many thanks to my beta team, Andi, Joan, and Sheeny. You guys make my ideas look good.

**Working It Out**

All of the evening's assigned CSIs were assembled in the Las Vegas Crime Lab as their supervisor, Gil Grissom, entered. Grissom was late in passing out assignments. He had overslept and in trying to keep from waking Sara, he forgot his wallet and had to go back for it. As a result, he bypassed all basic pleasantries and got right down to business.

"Arson has requested our collaboration on a case in Henderson. Seems they have a dead body and conflicting evidence. It's likely to become high profile. Catherine, I want you and Greg to work this one. You have the political savvy to maneuver this interdepartmental stuff and Greg needs the experience."

Catherine puffed up just a bit and nodded as Grissom passed her the assignment sheet. Grissom handed another to Warrick.

"Warrick, you have a domestic battery. Most of these end up being dismissed because the wife won't prosecute. I'd like you to convince her not to drop charges. I'm hoping that your influential powers as a new husband will help to sway her."

Everyone looked at Grissom. "What? You all are perfectly aware that I hate men who beat their wives. I'm all for using every tool at our disposal to put them away. I consider Warrick's persuasive skills a highly valuable tool." Catherine smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"Nick, you and I have a B & E. Let's go."

"You drive," said Grissom as they approached the car. He needed to get himself centered. He wasn't used to being late and it had left him disconcerted.

The drive to the scene was silent as Grissom looked through his messages. There was one from Ecklie, who had apparently reviewed the budget proposal that he finished before Sara had come over. So much had happened since then. It seemed a lifetime ago. His mind drifted to their day of lovemaking. This was going to be a problem if he didn't get focused.

Grissom called Ecklie and agreed to go before the committee to present his budget proposal next week. After a thorough perusal, all other calls could wait until morning.

Upon their arrival at the scene, Brass met them at the door and explained that the wife, Brenda Trimble, had come home from her weekly massage to an open door. She immediately went to the neighbor's and called 911. The walk-through indicated that the perpetrator had broken a window to gain entry, and then went directly to the upstairs office where the wall safe was located. He or she knew just what they were looking for.

Brass went to interview the wife while Nick dusted for prints on and around the safe. Grissom examined the window where the perp entered.

Grissom noticed at once that the glass pattern was odd. He wished Sara was on duty. As a physicist, she'd figure out this pattern at first glance.

But Sara was off tonight. He had left her sleeping in his bed.

The fantasy of that was nothing when compared to the reality. Her warm body next to his was what had caused him to oversleep, something he hadn't done in years. Was she still sleeping there, the smell of her being absorbed by his bedclothes? He might never wash those sheets again.

Her slumbering form had been so peaceful that he had avoided waking her. He hadn't said goodbye or made any arrangements for seeing her later. As a result, he was unsure when he would see her next. Would she be at his place after shift? Would she be at her place? What were her plans for the day?

"Grissom? Is something wrong?" Nick and Brass were standing staring at him. He had been distracted again.

"I was just noting the odd break pattern of this glass. Nick, do you see anything around that might have been used to break the window?" All three men looked around the room.

Nick shook his head. "Nothing.Something must have been used as an impact device as opposed to a projectile to break it. I'll go look outside."

Grissom began taking shots of the broken glass as Brass filled him in.

"Wife says the husband, Charles Trimble, is out of town on business. Plumbing contractors convention in Reno. She isn't aware of the contents of the safe and doesn't know of anyone else who might have known what was in there or even that they had one. She suggested we ask the husband. I called, but his voice mail was on. If plumbing conventions are like most others, he probably won't be turning the phone on tonight for the missus to check up on him. He's scheduled back in town tomorrow. It may be then before we get a chance to talk to him."

Grissom straightened up and looked around. "Nothing else disturbed. Perpetrator went straight to the safe and left when he got what he wanted. We need to get the prints back to the lab and scan them into AFIS. We'll need to exclude the husband and wife of course. Nick, did you get her prints?"

"Not yet. I've been busy looking for what broke the window. I don't see anything outside." Nick seemed frustrated. Grissom shook his head.

"That's okay. You collect the glass shards, I'll get her prints. I'd like to talk to her myself."

Finding the victim in her kitchen, Grissom noted that she still seemed distraught. Coming home to a break-in was certainly disturbing. Most victims calmed down after the initial interview. Brass was exceptionally good at calming down distraught women. Why was she still agitated?

"Mrs. Trimble, I'm afraid I'm going to need to take your fingerprints to help us to distinguish yours from any we may find from the intruder." When Mrs. Trimble nodded and extended her hand, Grissom continued. "I'm sure this is all very disturbing. I have every confidence that you are safe. Just to be certain, I'll ask Detective Brass to have someone watch your house until your husband arrives home."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary, Mr….

"Grissom."

"Mr. Grissom. I'm sure the person who broke in got whatever they were looking for. I'm not worried that they'll return." The woman seemed bitter.

The ride back to the lab was as silent as the one to the scene had been earlier that night. Grissom was bothered by the woman's demeanor. He called Brass.

"Jim, check the husband's whereabouts. Make sure he was at the convention. Something about the way the wife was behaving just doesn't seem quite right."

Nick finally spoke. "Are you alright, Grissom? You've been a bit…distracted tonight."

Grissom shook his head. "I'm just not used to coming in late. It throws me off." Nick nodded his head in understanding. Grissom looked over at Nick and doubted that he was ever off-balance after a romantic encounter.

Yet Sara was not just some romantic encounter. He had come to realize that she was the love of his life. He just had to figure out how to balance his newfound happiness with the rigors of his job. It would take some getting used to.

It was the lack of certainty that was upsetting him most. Would he even see her after shift? He had left her sleeping and they had made no specific plans. Being unsure of when he would see her again was only the beginning of his uncertainty. Right now, he wanted to spend every moment with her. Reason told him it was unlikely that feeling would last. They both needed freedom to be individuals as well as a couple. He had told Sara as much last night. What kind of balance could they establish in their relationship, a balance in which both felt safety in their love, while still free to do things outside the relationship?

Grissom had no idea how to navigate in a relationship. Showing concern for another and nourishing them as a person was a new experience and one he wanted to do well. But one had to nourish the relationship too. Did they plan on spending a specific amount of time together, and a certain amount of time apart? Or was that too structured? Should they play it by ear?

It was this type of uncertainty that had him off balance. Some things he knew would take time to work out. Others, he could take care of now. He would call her when he got back to the lab and find out what they would do after shift.

Grissom sent Nick to log the evidence and put the prints into AFIS and excused himself to his office. He called Sara's cell. He was frustrated when her voice mail came on. He left a message for her to call him when she got a chance.

Nick had taken the glass shards to layout on his way to the print room. Grissom plunged into the task, attempting to focus his mind away from Sara. He spent the next few hours printing and arranging the glass while recreating the break pattern from the pictures. He noticed some trace on a section of the glass and called Nick to verify that he had taken a sample to Hodges. Nick confirmed that he had , prompting Grissom to make a trip to trace.

Hodges was just retrieving the results from the mass spectrometer when Grissom arrived.

"Ah, just the person I was about to call. The white substance on your glass is gypsumized calcium , also known as drywall putty."

"Thanks, Hodges. That gives me a direction to look." Grissom left trace and went to fingerprint, where Nick was still attempting to find a match to the myriad of prints he had collected at the Trimble's house.

"Nick, the trace on the glass was drywall putty. Go back to the house and see if you can find something with drywall putty residue. Look in the garage, storage areas, basement, wherever someone may put work tools."

"You think the husband did it, don't you?"

"I think the evidence is indicating someone who knew the house well did it. The husband definitely knows his own house well."

Grissom returned to layout where he continued to put the glass shards together. The pieces with remnants of putty were starting to resemble the edge of a bucket. He was so engrossed in his work, he didn't look at the caller ID when his cell phone rang, assuming it was Nick.

"Grissom."

"Sidle. Hey, I got your message. I turned off my phone when I went to the gym. I just remembered to turn it on when I started to call you about breakfast. We are still doing breakfast and 'My Bodyguard' at my place this morning, aren't we? Or is it being put on hold for a case? Is that why you were calling?"

Grissom had forgotten about their date. All of his concern and they already had plans! They had discussed the movie before they became lovers and this new dimension of the relationship had made their previous plans fly from his mind.

"Unless new evidence surfaces, I don't think the case will keep me."

"Good. Why don't you call me about fifteen minutes before you leave. I'll wait to put the quiche in the oven after I hear from you."

Grissom smiled. Sara would be waiting for him at her place after shift. "Shall I bring anything?"

"An appetite," she said before disconnecting.

Grissom had a hard time focusing again on the glass shards but was finally able to get back to the business at-hand. A little later, he looked at his watch and realized shift was almost over. Knowing he had to check on the progress of the case before he left, he picked up his cell phone and dialed Nick's number.

"Hey, Grissom. I've looked in the garage and the gardening shed. I'm just heading down to the basement. Mrs. Trimble is sure acting nervous."

"Brass hasn't been able to contact Mr. Trimble yet. I don't think we'll be able to get much further until he does. When you're done there, bring anything you've found back to the lab and log it in, then go home. No sense working any overtime just yet."

"Good. I have a breakfast date that I really didn't want to cancel. I'll come in early if anything new comes up."

"Me too," said Grissom to no one but himself as he disconnected his phone.

Grissom called Sara and told her he would be leaving soon. He updated his case notes andchecked out with Judy. As he got into his car, he pulled out his cell phone and again called Sara.

"I'm on my way,' he chirped.

"See you shortly,' answered Sara. "I hope you have an appetite."

He had an appetite alright. Just not for quiche.

The drive to Sara's apartment seemed interminable. In fact, it was only fifteen minutes. He knocked on the door, trying to be patient. When the door swung open, he grabbed Sara and kissed her passionately.

When they came up for air, Sara exclaimed, "Wow! If I'd known what was involved with 'Kiss the Cook', I would've started cooking for you years ago."

Grissom smiled. "It's my version of pinching myself to see if I'm awake. I am. It's funny how all one's doubts disappear in the arms of the one you love."

Sara's brow furrowed and shewas about to say something when the buzzer went off indicating her quiche was done. Grissom followed her into the kitchen, where he saw the table already set with a vase of flowers suspiciously similar to some of the ones he had purchased yesterday. Sara saw him examining the flowers.

"I couldn't see any point in them wilting in your townhouse if we're going to be here today." Grissom nodded with understanding. "I didn't bring them all. Just a few. I left some for you to enjoy when you go home. Of course it would be alright with me if they had already wilted by the time you actually make it home." She smiled devilishly at Grissom. He beamed at her in return.

After Sara placed the quiche on the table next to the flowers, Grissom pulled his own chair out and sat down. Large glasses of juice stood at each of the plates which already had slices of melon on them. A plate stacked with toast was on the opposite side of the vase. Sara ladled quiche onto each of their plates and sat down.

"What time did you leave my place?" Grissom asked.

"Not long after you left," said Sara, picking up a fork.

"Oh," Grissom sighed.

Sara stopped the fork just short of her lips. "You sound disappointed."

Grissom looked up from his plate. "I am. I spent part of the morning imagining you asleep in my bed. Nick and Brass even caught me daydreaming."

Sara laughed. "That had to be a unique experience for Jim and Nicky. How did you explain that one?"

"I acted as if I had been trying to make out the break pattern of the broken window we were all examining. I think it worked."

"I hope it's not the last time I'll be asleep in your bed." Sara looked mischievously at him over her fork.

"I fervently hope it's the first of many times," replied Grissom with passion.

With the first bite, Grissom knew he was in trouble. If Sara was also a good cook, his heart was lost for certain. He hungrily devoured his first helping and shyly asked for more. As Sara was dishing up his second helping, she asked, "What kind of doubts have you been having?"

Grissom looked at her, puzzled.

"You said when you came in that doubts vanished in the arms of the one you love. So you apparently have been having doubts." Sara was serious, in spite of her attempts to be lighthearted with the inquiry.

"Not so much doubts as…anxieties." Grissom had been worried how to bring up his fears with Sara, knowing they had to be addressed. He should have known she would make it easy for him. At least as easy as something like this could be.

"I never pursued my interest in you because of, well, several things." Sara waited patiently while Grissom attempted to explain himself. "I guess first and foremost is the job. Although there are no regulations against our seeing each other, we both know that there will be problems. It could be used against us in many ways. Ecklie, for one. He's been trying to get rid of me for some time. Your association with me simply as a coworker has put you in jeopardy already. He could turn this around to his advantage."

Sara nodded her head. "I agree. There is no reason to jeopardize either of our careers, especially at this point. As long as no one knows we're seeing each other, they can't say it's affecting our work. If they suspect something, we'll know that there is a problem."

Grissom nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. I had concerns after our day at the zoo. But when it didn't affect our work, I felt very comfortable that we could see each other with no repercussions. I'm hoping today was an anomaly. After all, last night was…."

Grissom could find no words. He didn't need to. Sara reached across and took his hand. "I was there, remember? It can't be put into words.I understand your concerns. I think, with experience, we'll be able to do this."

Sara pulled back her hand and took another bite of her quiche. "So, what other anxieties do you have about us?"

"The age difference."

"What age difference?" queried Sara, innocently.

"Sara, don't be flip. There is a considerable difference in our ages. It may not seem like much at the moment. But very soon you're going to realize that I don't have the… stamina that younger men have. I may not always be able to…satisfy you."

Sara tried to hide a smile. "What makes you think younger men have always satisfied me? Most younger men are more concerned with themselves. You were more concerned about my comfort and satisfaction than all of the other men I have ever been with. Not that there have been a lot," she hastened. "If last night was any indication of what lies ahead for me, I can guarantee, no younger man could possibly keep up with you."

"But last night wasn't exactly normal. I don't think I've ever had two orgasms in one night."

"You think last night was normal for me? I've never climaxed twice in one week and I had two last night as well. I think we both need to realize that last night was our first night together, and therefore unique. It won't be the norm." Sara took Grissom's hand.

"I can accept that. But please don't minimize my concerns about this. All men have performance anxiety. The age difference intensifies it for me."

Sara nodded with understanding. "I promise I will show adequate empathy. But please take to heart what I said last night. Women are just as concerned about being as close emotionally as physically. Orgasm is not the ultimate goal in each encounter."

Grissom looked deep into Sara's eyes. "Yes. But understand that men, whose ultimate goal _is_ orgasm, think women just tell us that to soothe our egos."

Sara couldn't help but laugh at that. Grissom soon joined in.

As Grissom sobered up, all of the fears he had experienced earlier seemed trivial. But he realized that he needed to clarify and understand their relationship.

"Sara, the biggest reason I was anxious today was uncertainty. I had forgotten about our date to watch the movie today and I was worried about when I would see you again. I want to spend every minute with you, and I'm afraid that I'm being obsessive, that you will feel smothered. That maybe you don't feel the same way." Sara opened her mouth to protest, but Grissom stopped her. "Even if you do feel the same way, reason tells me that it's the newness of the relationship that makes us feel this way. In time, we'll need space. I don't want you - either of us - to feel smothered by the other. We need time to be individuals, separate from each other." Grissom felt that he was rambling without making himself clear. He sat silent, looking for the right words.

Sarasqueezed his hand. "Grissom, I think I understand your concerns. We need some guidelines. We've gotten into the habit of eating breakfast together daily. I depend on those times with you, to feel connected. Why don't we agree to continue our breakfasts and, except forspecial things like the museum,discuss plans day by day. We can gauge our need for space as things develop.We rarely have days off together. I suggest that when we have days off, we spend them away from each other. It will give us time apart. If we feel we need more, we'll discuss it, understanding that neither of us should have our feelings hurt if the other asks for that space.

"Right now, I don't see myself wanting to ever be anywhere but with you. But we've seen too many relationships broken on the rocks of expectation. If we're proactive, we can avoid those rocks. I don't want either of us broken."

Grissom took Sara's other hand and squeezed. They looked deeply into each other's eyes. Sara was the first to speak

"Let's get the quiche put up and the dishes in the sink. The movie is waiting."

As Grissom rinsed the dishes off and put them in the dishwasher, he watched Sara's form reaching and bending for containers in which to put the leftovers.

"Sara, do you mind if we go to bed instead of watching the movie?"

Sara placed the food inside the open refrigerator. Turning to Grissom she said with a trace of embarrassment, "I'm sorry. I forgot you've been working all night. And we had a big night last night. We should probably get some sleep."

"Who said anything about going to sleep," said Grissom with a twinkle in his eye.

**Epilogue**

"Nick, it's Brass. I'm on my way to the precinct to meet Mr. Trimble. Do you want to meet me there for the interrogation?"

Nick rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Yep, I'm on my way. Did you get hold of Grissom?"

"No, his cell phone is apparently turned off. His answering machine is on at home, too. I drove past his townhouse and his car isn't there. So I'd say we're on our own for this little chat."

When Nick arrived at the station, Brass was waiting in the observation room. Mrs. Trimble had come with her husband. The two sat anxiously awaiting the arrival of Nick and Brass. The two officers of the court entered and calmly sat down, looking over their files.

Brass began. "It's good to see you again, Mrs. Trimble. Mr. Trimble, thank you for coming down to the station to talk to us. Sir, it must be disturbing to learn that your house was burglarized while you were gone."

"Disturbing! That's an understatement! All of my business contracts were in the safe, as were my wife's diamond earrings and the company petty cash, among other things. Two of my clients called this morning and cancelled their contracts. They said they got a better deal and I don't have the contracts to argue with them. I don't know what I'm going to do." His distress was either legitimate, or well-acted.

"We'll need a complete list of all items that were in your safe," said Nick as he jotted down the items Trimble had just noted. "Was anyone else aware of the contents?"

"My business partner knew the cash and contracts were there. He didn't know about the earrings. They're a family heirloom. Brenda only wears them on special occasions." With sudden realization, he exclaimed, "My God, she might have walked in on him and been killed!" Trimble put his left arm around his wife, shaking. Nick felt that Grissom may have been hasty in implicating the husband. Mr. Trimble's concern seemed genuine.

"Is there anyone else who was aware of where the safe was located?" asked Brass.

Forcing himself to focus, Trimble pondered the question. After some time, he shook his head. "I never had any reason to have anyone up in my office. I mostly just did the bookkeeping for the business there."

Mrs. Trimble interrupted. "Charlie, Ted was there last week when you put the earrings in the safe."

"Yes, but Ted wouldn't have anything to do with this."

"Who is Ted?" queried Brass.

"Ted Ingles is my best friend from high school. We've been buddies for fifteen years. He and his wife, Glenda, went with us to the class reunion last week."

"Mr. Trimble, why was he in your office if no one ever goes up there," asked Nick.

"He is starting his own business and is having a few problems. I was showing him how to set up his books. He's never been very good with numbers and I was showing him how easy this software program is to run."

"What line of business is he in?" Nick was getting suspicious.

"He's a paint contractor, I think."

Brenda corrected him, "Glenda said he was going into plumbing, like you."

The Trimbles looked at each other, puzzled. Brass and Nick looked at each other.

"Mr. and Mrs. Trimble, I don't think we have any more questions at this time. We'll let you know when we find out more."

Nick practically ran to the computer. He pulled up the listing of all pending construction permits in the county. Two plumbing permits for contractors Trimble and Associates had been cancelled, affective today. The job names appeared again on two new permits under contractor Ted Ingles dba Ingles Pipes, filed today.

Nick ran back to Brass with the printout. "I think we need to talk to Mr. Ingles and get some prints. I bet they match the ones from our crime scene."

Brass clapped Nick on the shoulder. "Looks like you solved this one on your own, Nick. Grissom missed out."

But Grissom had no illusions of missing out on anything as his exhausted, sleeping, naked body spooned against another exhausted, sleeping, naked body in the heat of a late Las Vegas afternoon.


End file.
